The Exorcism of Heaven's Child
by HalfBloodAlchemist-10
Summary: "As his celestial blue eyes flickered shut, a flash of onyx filled his irises before dissipating within him." Based off of The Exorcism of Emily Rose. Light Destiel. GRAPHIC IMAGES! Comments are my milk and honey :3
1. Lies

Title: The Exorcism of Heaven's Child

Author: Halfblood Alchemist

Rating: R

Genre: Horror, religious themed exorcism, light Destiel

Spoilers: Mild for 6.01

Warnings: Blood, violent possession, swearing, disturbing scenes, a boy kiss, violence, Torture

Summary: After a failed attempt to protect Lisa and Ben from rogue demons, Castiel finds himself at the mercy of those he lost his battle to. Dean, still not forgiving of what happened to the people he swore to protect, finds Castiel near catatonic and wounded. But upon returning him to Bobby's home, they find that not all is as it seems, and the forces of hell can overthrow an archangel.

A/N: The story only covers the basic idea of what happens in next week's episode, since it hasn't aired yet. Only going off what the summary tells me! It's amazing how ten minutes of film footage can influence a story. Watched a scene from "The Exorcism of Emily Rose" and decided to take a stab at an exorcism story. The possession in this story is not canon to the Supernatural verse for the reason alone that will be explained in the story.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Castiel leaned against the dank alley wall, his shaking hand clutched around the neck of a whiskey bottle. His eyes bore heavily into the opposing wall, and if he had had the will to try, the very gaze would have crumbled the aging bricks to dust. He swallowed another draught the heated tang of the whiskey doing nothing to numb the insatiable guilt that ravaged his conscious.

He'd failed. He'd failed Lisa and Benjamin Braeden to their deaths. He'd failed Dean Winchester, the one he valued over life itself, and would do anything in his power to please him. He'd failed him; one simple task, and even he, a Goddamn Archangel couldn't complete it. In his despair, he crushed the bottle in his hand, wishing he were just fallen enough to allow the liquor to taint his sobriety, even just a bit. It would be better than this gnawing, never ending shame he riddled himself with.

Throwing the shattered glass to the ground, he stared at the dark stain the spilled liquid caused on the front of his ever present trench coat. He could will it away with nothing more than a thought… but why bother? Instead, his mind wandered; wandered back to the memories that dared not leave him, haunting him every moment it could...

_**One week prior**_

"_Cas, I need you to do me a favor…" Dean's voice sounded hurried over the tinny echoes of his cell phone. Castiel nodded, needing not ask where Dean was at. He'd known for this whole year where Dean had been residing. He knew that house well for nights found the two near the back of the expansive yard, hidden from sight as they made communion to the young hours of every new day. _

_Those nights were quiet, the only sounds being their hurried breaths, lips caressing and hands touching in desperate attempts to map out the other. Deep down, Dean feared that he would lose this too; this thing he had with Castiel, the last visages of a life he'd left behind on a promise to his deceased brother._

_In the beginning, it had been necessary to keep Dean going through every following day; a nudge in the right direction to keep up his charade for as long as possible. Despite these attempts, they couldn't hide their secret from Lisa for long. She knew. And yet she did not despise this. In their hearts, they all knew any normal life with a wife and a child would be nothing more than a pipe dream, a goal never really reached. So they did the best they could, Dean taking on his role as protector and leaving his love affairs to a midnight angel._

_Castiel had known Sam lived from the moment he crawled from the pit. He didn't even know how it was possible, but he knew. After Sam made him promise not to reveal his secret, Castiel's visits grew longer, stretching into daylight hours. To Ben, he became Dean's "friend", a visitor that brought him tiny trinkets and gifts to protect their reality from the young boy. He wasn't to know just yet. So Castiel stayed, and Sam's secret remained. He wished to protect Dean from this realization, until the time it was necessary to bring the two brothers together._

_It wasn't until after their first hunt in over a year, did the brother's realize a plight. A call from Bobby regarding a young monstrosity locked in the form of a babe brought this realization to the surface. The hunt was back on, and there was no one to protect the Braeden's from harm. Once Dean went off, they would be alone, prime targets from rogue demons that wished to exact their revenge on the Winchesters whom locked their master back in his cage. _

_It gnawed at every fiber of Dean's being that he wouldn't be there to watch over them; it was all he knew after a year's hiatus from the hunt. However, he was needed this time, and although Samuel Campbell had returned, it wasn't enough to send Sam on his own to investigate the mysterious infant. _

_With no further options, Dean called the only other person he could trust, pleading with him to help. "Please Cas. Sam and I need to take care of this, but Lisa and Ben can't be alone. Will you watch them? Make sure nothing happens to them?"_

_Castiel had nodded, placing a hand on Dean's cheek. "Of course, Dean. I'll will guard them until your safe return." He leaned up, pressing a kiss to Dean's lips before turning him away. "Be off. We will be here when you return."_

_Dean nodded, shooting a glance over his shoulder at the trio before climbing into the Impala with his brother. He smiled at Castiel, shooting Lisa a wink before the car roared from the driveway, engine rumbling in the Cicero air._

_Castiel turned, feeling a tug on his trench coat. By his side stood Ben, a curious but fully stern look on his young features. "You be good to Dean, or I'll kick your butt." _

_He didn't know how it happened. He couldn't fathom it. It had all happened so suddenly, but with such a brute strength it challenged his abilities. How? How could he have let this happen?_

_Castiel blinked the memories fuzzy in his mind. It had all started so simply. A few days after Dean's departure, Lisa had offered to prepare the angel lunch, ignoring his insistence that he required no sustenance. "Bull. Dean told me you like to eat. Now come on, I've already got the skillet out." Her words were gruff, but the smile on her fair features rivaled the implications. Castiel couldn't help but smile. Now he could see why Dean had liked her so much._

_Finally agreeing, he sat down at the backyard table with the two, enjoying the lunch she'd created on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. In retrospect, it should have seemed too good to be true._

_He'd gotten too comfortable. He missed the warnings signs. It was his fault. All his fault. Castiel winced, remembering the sudden brush of too-cold air whipping through the yard. Eyes wide, he rose to his feet, shoulders rigid in preparation for a fight. The smell of sulfur hit the air like a slap in the face, and he cursed himself. He'd let his guard down. _

_Turning to Lisa and Ben, he ordered the frightened pair into the house, eyes flashing brightly. "Get inside!" he yelled, turning to face whatever demons would show themselves._

_It was unlike anything he'd ever seen- or not seen. The force of an invisible hand struck him across the jaw, throwing him. He gasped, stunned. How could this happen? Jumping to his feet, he whipped about, catching the shimmering glimpses of demon spirits in the yard, far too many to count. Amassing before him the air felt silent and heavy, the calm before the storm. Then they attacked._

_It was an all out war. He fought and slashed his way through the crowd of demons, hearing frightened screams from behind him. He turned in time to see Lisa and Ben trapped, too far from the door to escape the grasp of the demons. "LISA!" he shouted, fighting his way through the horde. What the hell was happening? HUNDREDS of demons flooded the property, blocking and scraping their way at the lone archangel who tried desperately to save those Dean loved. _

_Something was horribly wrong. Something… something was blocking his power, binding it from his full potential. There were too many. Too many! Castiel screamed in rage, blade flying before him as he tried so desperately to reach Lisa and Ben. He couldn't fail. He just couldn't._

_Suddenly, unseen hands grasped him, the touch burning horribly. It was almost as if the contact of holy fire burned into his flesh, causing him to writhe and scream in their grasp. He couldn't move! He couldn't… his vision was obstructed. WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON! A scream from before him caused the angel to look up. To his horror, Lisa hung suspended in the air, invisible claws and teeth ripping her torso to shreds. Below her, Ben suffered a similar fate. The young boy was thrown about like a ragdoll, blood flying as the invisible beasts tore them apart. Hellhounds._

"_NO!" he cried, fighting with all his might. "LISA! BEN!" In his last ditch struggle, he shoved the invisible hands off of him, making a break for the two. If he could just reach them…_

_A sudden shock, ripping through him like lightning stopped him in his tracks. He screamed, feeling as if the very power were ripping him up from the inside. Moments turned to hours, turned to years; the agony blinding him. _

_And just as suddenly, everything went black…_

_

* * *

_

Castiel startled back to his senses, eyes wide and fearful as he struggled to catch his breath. Ever since his failed mission, the angel had felt a weakened state of being, almost as if he were fallen; a human. But no… his powers were still present. He didn't understand what was becoming of him. Had he received punishment for breaking the Righteous Man's promise? Had he received it for allowing two of his charges to have ill fall upon them?

Castiel felt his vessel's legs give out, yet he struggled to remain standing. Deep down, he did not understand why he continued to fight for his dignity? He deserved none. With a sigh, Castiel pushed himself from the wall, wandering down the dark stretches of the desolate alleyway, eyes downcast.

How he wished to return to Dean's side, but the screams of remorse, the fury at his failure echoed in his mind, far out crying the screams of the dying. Dean had cast him out. In a fit of rage, he's thrown the angel from his sight, screaming, "_I TRUSTED YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH! HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN?"_

To the archangel, those words stung worse than the raging pain he'd felt when he had fallen unconscious at the hands of the invisible beasts before him. He would have rather suffered a similar fate a thousand times over than hear those words leave his beloved's mouth again. He would give anything to never have disappointed Dean so terribly.

As he wandered, a chill ran through the air, wind whipping flecks of debris from the littered ground around him. As the wind picked up, a low howl filled the air, crags echoing with the growing breeze. As if on cue, a fluttering of clouds crossed the night sky, obscuring the sickly moonlight .

The angel stopped in his tracks. Something was wrong. In the dark of the pathway, a nagging sensation filled his mind, sharpening his already acute senses. Shadows intensified. Sounds amplified. Every fiber of his being went into overdrive, old instincts kicking in. In the dark passage, riddled with shadows and dank corners, the angel froze, fists curling at his sides in defense.

Castiel wasn't alone.

With small, aborted movements the angel turned to face his adversaries. Sharp blue eyes picked up any details otherwise lost in the muted vision of the night, scanning his surroundings. His vessel's blood pounded in his ears, adrenaline kicking in. In hindsight, this should have been worrisome; he should not be able to sense such small, human responses to the unknown night.

"Show yourself…" he hissed, fists shaking at his sides. He knew. He knew who was following him, and he was more than ready to face them again. After all, they did have an unsettled score.

This time, however, the demons took on shape. The vessel of one demon stepped into his line of sight. The man's shoulders were broad and sharp, chiseled features marred in a terrible parody of a smile. Castiel watched his new adversary with a cautious eye. All too soon, two more demons joined their leader, followed by another two. The five demons bore down on Castiel, eyes flashing black in the night.

"Castiel, such a pleasure to see you again." The lead demon laughed, his deep voice liquid poison in the night. "It was a shame what happened to those two wretches at the Cicero home… Slaughter was not our intention, but you know the nature of hellhounds… insatiable brutes they are." As he spoke, he raised a hand to the thin air, stroking something by his side.

Castiel's eyes widened, realizing what he hadn't picked up. Hellhounds stood by the side of each demon, yet he sensed none of them. It was almost as if his Grace had gone superficial. He reached out with his Grace to sense anything of the beasts, but he felt nothing. It was only the tell-tale growls thrumming through the air that alerted him to their presence.

"What's the matter, Castiel? Feeling a bit under the weather?" A female demon spoke next. As she did, a hand shot out, her own tainted grace throwing the angel across the width of the alley to slam headlong into the opposing wall.

The angel gasped, slumping to the ground in pain. A trickle of warm liquid ran down the side of his face, seeping in between his lips as he struggled to regain his breathing. "What is… happening…" he gasped to himself, struggling to his feet.

"What are you waiting for, Castiel? Fight us!" The demon laughed, gripping the weakened archangel by the throat.

A sensation like fire ripped through Castiel's throat, burning his flesh where the demon's hand touched him. He writhed in his grip, choking past the inflamed grip around his neck. At his feet, the curious snuffling of the hellhounds turned rabid, snarls filling the air. He felt one latch onto his calf, ripping his vessel's flesh away in a fountain of dark crimson, feasting on the tissue.

The angel screamed. He screamed for all he was worth, the sound half choked through the tightening fist around his esophagus. In a last ditch effort, he pressed his palm to the demon's forehead, uttering the exorcism in a vain attempt to disarm the larger man before him.

Nothing happened.

"What's this? The great Archangel Castiel can't exorcize a simple demon?" As he spoke, the beast dragged Castiel towards the back wall, pinning him in place. He motioned to two of his companions, who strode forward eagerly. Each one took a hold on Castiel's wrists, pulling them apart to keep him immobile against the wall. "I do believe there's a few things you haven't been told Castiel…"

The angel looked up at him, a raw handprint burnt into his neck. In defiance, he spat in the demon's face, lip pulled back into a vicious snarl. "I won't listen to you and your poisonous lies!"

"Oh really? Not even for a decent explanation, Castiel?" The demon gripped his chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Castiel, have you not noticed your powers diminishing as of late? Yet, you are not fallen? How could this be, I wonder?"

Castiel glared, unwilling to listen. He shook his head, trying desperately to block out the lies he knew were coming.

"Don't you see? This was all a façade! Heaven gave you a false title, to draw you away from the real fight. The war isn't over, Castiel. You are no archangel and there is no divine plan for you."

Castiel looked up at him, wide eyes betraying his fear. "You lie…"

"I would never! Not on such a thing, Castiel. Your powers were nothing but a front to drag you away from the Winchesters. Unfortunately for you, they were due to expire within a few days… nothing like a little negativity to speed up the process, eh?"

Castiel stared at him, shaking his head in disbelief. "No… it can't be…"

"What you think your Daddy's gonna just give your allowance a boost? He doesn't give two shits about the world, but you have the gull to think you're special? You're nothing, Castiel! Nothing but dirt under the big man's foot!" The demon struck the weak angel across the face, claws marring his already bloody temple.

Castiel gasped in pain, willing the agony of the truth to dissipate before he looked up again. He couldn't let them see the pained tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He shivered, the burns from any exposed skin touching his leaving shivers of sensation itching at his flesh. "No…"

"Oh yes. But here's the catch; you're not completely useless after all." At this, the demon smiled, catching the hitch in the angel's shoulders. "You have a special purpose after all. After your little altercation with lover boy, Lucifer decided it would be a good idea to pick up on the opportunity while it presented himself."

Castiel's head snapped up to meet his gaze, burning hate in those blue orbs. "No! Lucifer is back in the pit!"

"Doesn't mean he doesn't have control over us. Remember we've been around for centuries. Lucifer's been in the cage before. He ruled then. But now…" The demon tapered off, chuckling to himself. "Now he's got leverage. There are only two people that can keep him down there in that cage, now that Michael's out of the picture. Two people… and you're on both their shit-lists."

The angel shivered at the implications, eyes boring into the demon's. "What are you saying…"

"I'm saying, you're our prime target, baby! With no assistance from them, Lucifer's got the perfect opportunity to take back what he lost. And you'll help us out." At his next words, the demon leaned forward, eyes flashing coal-black once again. "Like I said… the war's not over. It's personal now."

Castiel barely had time to register the implication of those words, before he was wrenched violently to the side. A pair of too-cold hands gripped his face, wrenching it around with near-breaking strength. He yelped in pain, feeling the muscles in his neck strain and pull with the exertion. "NO! I WON'T HELP YOU!" he raged, eyes flashing wildly in the night.

They didn't respond. Too rough hands forced him down onto his knees, wrenching his head up to face the cloudy sky above him. His wings beat a tempo into the demons surrounding him, the air quivering with the sound of rustling feathers. He struggled in vain in their arms, trying to dislodge them. He didn't believe them. If he could just escape, he'd be able to win the upper hand… if he could just escape…

"Ah, ah." The lead demon snickered, kicking him in the chest. He smiled in triumph, hearing the angel gasp for air. "Don't go running off, we're not done playing here." As he spoke, he pulled an oil jar from his pocket and a book of matches. He smiled, seeing the dawning realization cross the angel's face. "Oh yes… we're going to have loads of fun…"

Castiel's eyes widened at the implication, his struggles increasing tenfold. But no matter how hard he tried, it was no use. He felt rough fingers massage his jaw, forcing it open with brutality. He snapped at their fingers in a last attempt, but this only served to elicit more laughs from the group. Fingertips forced his mouth open, pulling the jaws apart enough to snap the joint.

He whimpered in pain, his will finally disintegrating under their touch as the tendons hyper extended, his mouth forced open obscenely wide. Full terror filled his eyes as he watched the lead demon step forward, uncorking the jar of holy oil.

"Open wide, little angel." He laughed, upending the contents down Castiel's throat.

It was like liquid fire. He choked and screamed, the oil coating his throat and mouth in a burning layer. He struggled hard under their grip, gagging on the slippery substance as it burned his throat raw.

"And the grand finale…" the sound of a match struck the air, burning sulfur mixing with the taint of the demon's essence. The tiny flame, so small and innocent in the demon's hand, hovered over Castiel's open mouth, hanging precariously from loose fingertips. "… let the lightshow begin."

The match dropped from the demon's fingertips, plunging down the angel's gullet. Instantly, the oil lit up, flames engulfing Castiel's throat, flickering from his mouth in a flash of holy flames.

The pain… oh God, the pain it was like nothing he'd ever experienced before in his eternity of existence! The angel flailed in their arms, flames licking up from his open maw his mouth, throat, and lips burning under the onslaught. He shrieked in agony, eyes lighting up as the holy fire worked to burn what little Grace was left in him. Tears streamed down his face as he felt his very flesh within him roast and crack, blacken and char; his vocal chords burnt as the flames grew hotter and hotter within him.

But as he felt the last visages of his spirit begin to dwindled, the demons acted. Within a moment, all five demons vacated their current vessels, bodies landing dead to the ground. The pillar of smoke wafted through the air, plunging down the angel's throat and extinguishing the holy fire within him.

As the last tendrils of the demon essence plagued the dying angel's being, he collapsed to the ground, weakened body ravaged with the intrusion. As his celestial blue eyes flickered shut, a flash of onyx filled his irises before dissipating within him.


	2. Broken Wings

**Chapter 2**

Dean sighed, pressing his elbows into the railing of Bobby's front porch. He watched the moon rise, low and yellowed in the early evening hours. He took another deep drink from the whiskey bottle, willing his heartache to go away.

They were gone. Lisa and Ben. Dead at the hands of demons, the very self-same creatures Castiel swore to protect the two from. How could Castiel just sit aside and let them die? Lisa he might be able to understand. But a jealous angel? It didn't seem plausible. And Ben…

Sure, Castiel had been willing to off Jesse, but he was the Anti-Christ. He practically ADORED Ben in the best way his muted emotions could. It just didn't seem possible.

Dean frowned, burying his face in the crooks of his elbows. Maybe Castiel had been right. In his fit of rage, the hunter didn't even bother to listen to Castiel's explanation. He had had it in his mind that the angel had just let the two flounder under the mercy of the demons, but…

He looked up. The sounds of footfalls alerted his attention, and he turned to see Sam join him on the porch. He nodded, the two falling into silence as they watched the sickly moon cross its arch. Across the salvage yard, loose metal clattered to the sun-baked earth below, knocked askew by a roaming coon. The distant lowing of a screech owl broke the eerie calm, the two brothers flinching at the otherworldly sounds.

"Dean…" Sam finally broke the quiet, glancing out of the corner of his eye to meet his brother's gaze. "Dean… did you at least listen to Castiel's explanation? He's been gone for two days now… I can't get a hold of him, and I've got a bad feeling about something…"

Dean rubbed his temples, not daring to look up at his younger brother. "No… I didn't listen to him, but… Dammit Sam! He promised he'd protect them! I swore I'd protect them and now…" he stopped, a bitter smile on his face. "Now they're gone because an angel broke another promise…"

"Dean, listen to me. Something doesn't feel right about this. He's a fucking archangel, and he loves you more than anything in this world or Heaven. He wouldn't let people die like that because he knows how much they meant to you. From what I could understand… it's almost like something was blocking him. Keeping him from fighting them off. It's Cas, Dean. A couple of demons with their dogs aren't gonna stand a chance against him."

The elder hunter listened to Sam's words, soaking them up carefully. After a few moments, a frown marred his face, lined before his years with worry and stress. After a moment, he stepped back from the railing, turning to face Sam head on. "I know… you don't think I thought about that? I can't let it go that it was all a lie because the alternative is… I can't bear to think about it."

A worry line creased Sam's brow as he bit nervously at his lower lip. "You don't think he's…" he didn't voice his worry about Castiel's falling again, but the question hung between them as loud as if the words had been uttered.

"No, it can't be. Something else is up. They wouldn't promote him to top dog only to kick him out again."

"I dunno, Dean. This is the angels were talking about. And with God on hiatus…"

Dean shook his head, cutting off Sam's statement. He leaned back against the railing, taking another swig of the whiskey. But instead of the normal burn of alcohol that had tainted his palate for years already, another sensation filled him. The burn intensified with each second, feeling a blaze licking the back of his throat. He coughed, choking on his own spittle. The pain increased with the passing seconds; Dean doubling up as his body tried to expel the raging sensations in the back of his throat.

"Dean?" Sam leapt forward, clapping a hand to his brother's back. What the hell…

After a moment, Dean managed to regain some control, his breaths shaky and uneven. He stared at the bottle for a moment, swearing that the label had changed before his eyes.

"Dean, what the hell was that?"

"Sam! Look at the bottle!" Dean gasped, his emerald eyes widening in fear. Across the label in dark red lettering, the words 'HOLY OIL' blotted out the Daniel's logo, fading back into the night just as quickly.

Sam looked, frowning to himself. "I don't see anything…"

Without warning, the pieces clicked into place. Dean remembered Castiel's half-formed description, the raw burning sensation he'd felt on his skin when he tried to fight the demons off of his charges. The burning, like fire that licked at his skin and proved him immobile against the effects. "Shit…" he wrenched away from Sam's grip, storming into the house.

Sam followed, bewildered by his brother's change in attitude. "Dean, what the fuck is going on?"

"We gotta find him now…" Dean spat over his shoulder, wrenching the car keys from the table top and stuffing them into his pocket. "You're right, something's off about this whole thing."

As he lead Sam from the house, the two clambered into the impala before taking off into the night, a gnawing fear gripped the hunter's heart. He pushed it aside, keeping his mind on the task before him. He'd find Castiel, make sure he was ok… then maybe get the answers he sought.

* * *

"CASTIEL!" Sam cried into the night, the two split up to search for the angel. The brothers had been at it for two hours already, and still no sign of the angel showed itself. He didn't answer his phone, he didn't come when summoned; no one had even seen a strange man wearing a trench coat. The worry began to increase within them, running their patience thin.

Dean growled in his chest, slamming a fist into the bricks of an adjacent building. He felt the skin of his knuckles split with the force, but he didn't care. The sharp pain through his hand grounded him, and he wiped the droplets of blood away on the leg of his jeans. "Dammit, Cas…" he whispered, eyes filling with insatiable concern over his missing angel. "Where are you…"

He didn't notice Sam approach him until the larger man was almost upon him. He turned, hoping beyond hope that Sam had at least a lead for them to follow. Alas, there was none.

"I'm sorry Dean, he's not here… he's probably fluttered off somewhere."

"Shit… no he can't... I…" Dean spluttered, fisting his hair in frustration. He wanted to scream. "Castiel, Goddammit, where are you…"

Sam sighed, turning away from his fretting brother's side. They would search for a little while longer, but the night was waning and if they had no lead, there was no point in searching any longer. "We'll try another summoning, Dean. He's got to-"

A moment of silence passed between them. Dean looked up, confused by Sam's abrupt end. "Sammy?"  
No response. The hunter's face was turned towards an opposing alleyway, brow furrowed in anger and worry. "Dean… you smell that?" he hissed, fists clenching at his sides.

Sure enough, over the dank breeze a stench of sulfur reached their nostrils. It was almost overpowering. Dean coughed, eyes watering with the smell. "Demons…"

Like a shot, the two bolted for the alley, two phantoms in the night against the damp pavement. As they drew nearer, the smell grew stronger, drawing them closer to the unfortunate demons within.

Dean drew his handgun, motioning for Sam to follow suit. They slunk into the alley, eyes wide against the driving dark. They waited a moment for their eyes to adjust before inching their way into the deep dark within.

Dean's heart raced in his chest, watching the near empty alley stretch before him. As he took a step, the crunch of glass underfoot made the hunter jump, cursing the undue noise in the too-quiet enclosure. But when no beasts rushed them at the intrusion, he motioned for Sam to follow, watching the glint of the dagger blade catch what little light seeped into the area.

Eyes now fully adjusted to the dark, Dean sighed in disappointment, seeing the back wall just before them. "There's nothing here…" he murmured. All too soon it seemed.

As he moved, his foot brushed something on the ground; something solid and heavy. His hands dropped immediately, gun aimed at the thing before him. It didn't move.

Sam risked a light, pulling a flashlight out and shining it at the offending object. On the ground lay the body of a young man, blonde hair plastered to his forehead and brown eyes wide in perpetual fear. Much to their awe, his body wasn't the only one.

As Sam's light swept the area, four other bodies came into sight, each one lying on the ground with eternal shock on their pale faces.

"What the hell…" Dean gasped, taking in the sight in disbelief. Five victims, all seemingly untouched lay dead at their feet. But it wasn't the massacre of these innocents that caught the brother's attention.

It was the sixth form, slumped at the back wall that made their blood run cold. He lay in a puddle of blood, handprint burns marring his neck. His lips were blackened, skin too pale in the moonlight. His eyes were also open, but instead of the terror the other's held, his were glazed over, hooded and bloodshot. Behind him, a pair of twisted wings crushed up against the wall, midnight black feathers scattered across the dirty ground.

"Castiel!" Dean gasped, rushing forward. He dropped to his knees, the legs of his jeans soaking up the vessel's blood from the ground. He pulled Castiel upright, tilting his face to meet his gaze. "Castiel… please… wake up." He begged, voice cracking in the night.

Castiel didn't even so much as blink. He felt rigid in his grip as if he were a puppet to be moved. He didn't notice Dean's presence, nor did he notice Sam gently readjusting the dark wings behind his back. The moment, they were in place, they snapped out of existence, leaving a flutter of ruined feathers to quiver around the awestruck hunter.

It was a shame Sam's first glimpse of those raven wings had to be in such a terrible situation.

Dean ran his fingertips across the angel's brow, willing any sort of response from him. "Please Cas… for God's sake say something!" he was near begging, eyes stinging in the night.

"Dean…" Sam murmured, watching the catatonic angel with wide eyes. "He's not… is he…"

"No! Don't say it, Sammy!" he snarled, whirling around on his little brother with a vengeance. His hands gripped the still form to his chest, wishing he could take back everything he'd said to him. "Just… g-go get the car…" he trailed off, holding Castiel gently in his arms.

Sam nodded, taking off down the alley to leave the two alone. He glanced over his shoulder, a niggling worry at the back of his mind. Something was off. If Castiel had successfully exorcized the demons from the victims, why were they dead? And what happened to Castiel?

Several long minutes later, the rumble of the Impala's engine echoed down the corridor, idling just outside the entrance. Sam exited quickly, hurrying back to help his brother carry the angel to safety. With a gentle hand, the two hoisted him to his feet, half-dragging him from the site.

They didn't expect what happened next.

The moment Castiel was shifted upright, his trembling body heaved forward, vomit spilling from his scorched lips and down the front of his chest. The brother lurched back, eyes wide in horror at the sight of their beloved angel so violently sick. "CAS!" Dean cried, pulling him upright and dragging him from the dark alleyway.

The moment they pulled him into the relatively bright lights of a fading lamppost, they surveyed the bile staining the front of his coat and shirt. Dark red, slippery spatters marred his front, seeping into his clothing and oozing from cracked lips. "Shit… is that oil?"

Dean stared at the mess, horrified. "It is… it's holy oil."

Sam, terrified by the revelation, spluttered in disbelief. "B-but... how…"

"No time, Sammy we gotta get Cas back to Bobby's house! Whoever did this to him… those demons could come back. This is unfinished business for them. We have to protect him until he snaps out of this!"

After minimal struggling, they managed to wrestle the angel into the backseat. With a tender hand, Dean adjusted Castiel's position, crawling into the backseat to lay him across the bench and his lap. "Sam, you drive. I'm gonna sit back here with him…" At his affirmative, Dean hunkered down, cradling Castiel's head to his chest, mindless of the bloody oil on his being. "Hang on, Cas… we're gonna get you out of here…"

* * *

Through the whole ride, Castiel remained still, never a movement in his ill form. Under the dome light Dean was able to survey his injuries further. He was amazed he didn't gag at the sight himself.

A portion of Castiel's left calf was missing entirely, blood seeping everywhere from the gaping wound. On any inch of exposed skin, fiery red handprints disfigured the once pale surfaces. His wrists and neck bore the worst of those prints, bubbled and raw from the contact with holy oil tainted skin. But it wasn't those injuries that worried Dean.

Now in the light, he saw the burnt skin of his lips, his cheeks fire red as if from exposure to intense heat. He didn't want to see how far they'd gone, but if Castiel had thrown up oil, then…

Swallowing his fear Dean opened Castiel's mouth gently, mindful of the bruised jaw, and gasped. The interior of his mouth was seared, reaching down the back of his throat to God knows how far down his gullet. "Fuck… Sammy they… they burned him out. They burned the oil in his throat…." He croaked, feeling weak with the realization.

The car swerved under Sam's hand, shock temporarily stunning him. "No…" He gasped, whipping around in the seat to see for himself. His face turned a pale shade of green, and he swallowed hard, looking away from the horrid sight. "Shit…"

"Just keep driving, Sam… we're gonna get him help. I swear, we are." Pulling him even closer to his arms, Dean wept silently, cursing himself and his disbelief. "Shit, Cas… I-I'm sorry." He whispered, pressing kisses to the sweaty temples of his lover. "… I'm so, so sorry…"

* * *

Bobby ambled out onto the porch, watching with awe as the Impala tore into the yard, dust flying everywhere. "What in blue hell is going on?" he growled, bounding forward. He watched as Sam leapt from the driver's seat and bolted for the passenger door. Where the hell was Dean?

Bobby froze, eyes widening as he watched the two pull the catatonic Castiel from the interior of the Impala. "God damn, what happened to him?"

"Demons got a hold of him. No time to explain!" Dean added quickly to the rising question in Bobby's throat. He ushered Cas past him and towards the house. "We gotta get him into the panic room! The demons are gone, and they're gonna be pissed they lost their angel!"

Bobby nodded, running ahead to unlock the panic room for its victim. He muttered under his breath about 'idjit angel trying to outdo himself', before disappearing into the house.

Just outside the door, Dean and Sam struggled Castiel from his stained clothing, throwing trench coat, suit coat and shirt off to the side. Now shirtless they could see the extent of his injuries, swallowing in shock. "How could he get this hurt… he got a recharge…" Sam whispered, staring at the red burns from his torture. The holy fire had been so hot they burned him from the inside out, marking his pale skin dark red.

"I don't know Sam… but right now we gotta get him in there. We'll figure this out when he heals over or whatever…" Dean murmured trying to stay positive. It wasn't working very well.

"OK IT'S OPEN!" Bobby shouted, calling them down. He held the door open to allow three grown men to pass. He watched in sadness as the angel that he had come to know like a third son suffered so badly for their sakes.

Dean lead the trio, inching into the panic room with Castiel's arm around his shoulder. But as they tried to pass, it felt as if a wall suddenly sprang up before them, halting them in their tracks. "What the hell?" Dean paused, inching forward again. He managed to pass the threshold on his own, but his precious cargo remained rooted to the spot. "Sam… don't stop him."

"I'm not!" Sam hissed, pushing with all his might to budge the angel through the door. It was like trying to push through concrete.

With each exerted effort, Castiel twitched in their arms, tiny grunts of pain lancing through him. He doubled up against Dean's shoulder, barely audible whispers ghosting across his neck. It didn't sound Enochian, or English but his words were indiscernible in the quiet.

They all fell still, not willing to realize what this meant.

"Boys…" Bobby murmured, eyes wide in fear. "… I think we found your demons…"

"Dean… look at me." Sam's voice commanded attention, the hunter's arms crossed over his chest.

Dean ignored him, ghosting his fingertips over Castiel's bare chest. He sighed, watching the slight twitches racing across his features, eyes closed against the light. Castiel's breathing was too fast, too shallow, his body stiff and immoveable. "I heard ya Sam…" he sighed, looking up at long last. His eyes held pleading, worry deep in the green irises.

Sam sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder. "C'mon I already called Samuel. He's gonna come here and… well see if he can help us exorcize the demons. They seem pretty calm right now, but…"

He didn't wait for Sam to finish his explanation. Dean pushed his hand away, lurching to his feet. He stumbled into the kitchen before pulling a beer from the refrigerator and downing it in one go. "Yeah, I know Sammy… We gotta… shit, I didn't believe him. We gotta save him…" his voice sounded wrecked and small in the quiet of the kitchen.

They stood silent for a moment, just staring at the other. They didn't notice Bobby enter the kitchen; only looking up when the elder hunter cleared his throat. "I think I got a place we can put Castiel… at least until Samuel gets here." He held a small key up. "There's a shed out back that's empty. We can… we can put him in there for the time being."

Sam nodded, leaning forward from the counter. "Alright… I'll get the chalk. We'll trap him in there until the demons are gone."

"Whoa wait a minute. You're gonna trap him like a monster? It's CAS!" Dean shouted, anger flashing across his face.

Sam rounded on him, his own obstinacy strong on his face. "No, Dean! We have to do this! You want those demons gone or what? Because there's only one other place we're gonna keep him safe for now!"

The air fell still and hot around them, silence dragging on between them. It seemed the world would snap at any moment, brother against brother in this debate.

It didn't last long though. From the other room, the air crackled with electrifying power, a roar unlike anything they'd ever heard filling the air. Through the roar a shriek broke forth, bone chilling and sharp.

Shit, had they found them already? Dean bolted, running to the living room where his beloved lay, ready to protect him. But what he saw made his heart drop into his stomach.

In an obscene parody of prayer, Castiel knelt in the middle of the floor, screeches pouring from his mouth in ancient Hebrew. Blunt nails ripped the skin of his chest and right temple apart, tearing and bleeding down his already damaged form in self-flagellation. A phrase, repeated over and over left his screaming form before he dropped to the floor, thrashing violently. His hand connected with the table, wood splintering under his force.

"CAS!" Dean yelled, running forward to restrain him. The screams turned animalistic, chilling their very blood with the ferocity of the ancient words. "SAM HELP ME!"

The younger brother darted forward, grabbing Castiel's thrashing legs, the two lifting him from the floor. Blood splattered everywhere with his movements, chairs upending as he writhed in their grips. "CASTIEL STOP!"

"GET HIM TO THE SHED!" Bobby yelled, running to the panic room. He grabbed chalk, the shackles and paint, leading the brothers to the shed with the possessed angel in their arms. "Kneel him down and bind his wrists!" he ordered, painting the tiny symbols of devil's traps onto the cuffs of the shackles. He clamped them around the bloodied wrists of the younger man, wrenching them apart to secure them.

Dean fought with all his might, holding Castiel down as they worked to secure the chains. "I'm so sorry, Cas!" he shouted over the screams, beginning to chalk the trap into the dirt below him.

The process was long, Castiel fighting off their advances at every turn. He kicked, hit and bit at their hands, eyes rolling into the back of his head as those same words filled the too quiet air around him.

"DEAN BACK UP!" Sam shouted, grabbing the chalk from Dean. The chains were secure, but they wouldn't be enough to hold him. The trap, however, was incomplete. One final chalk stroke would hold him.

At least for now.

"BOY GET YOUR ASS OUT OF THERE!" Bobby yelled, dragging Dean away from his lover. He held the younger hunter back, watching in shock as Sam finished the trap.

It was done. As quickly as it happened, it was over with that final chalk stroke. Castiel felt silent, unconsciousness flooding him as he felt limp against the tension of the chains. Heavy breathing filled the air as Dean tried yet again to stand by his angel's side.

"No Dean…" At his words, Sam dragged his brother from the shed kicking, watching as Bobby locked it behind them.

The moment they were separated, Dean fell limp against the wall, sobs breaking from his chest. "Goddammit! WHY DIDN'T I LISTEN TO HIM?" he begged, tears running down his dusty face.

As the sun rose behind them, tainting the sky an ominous red hue, the sobs of a torn lover broke the morning still, begging that his prayers would be answered for once.


	3. It Has Begun

**Chapter 3**

_A/N the second: Now that the second episode has aired, I can talk a little more on that. However, to keep my story line going, I'm only going to be VERY general on the plot so really not that many spoilers._

The clock on the far wall echoed quietly in the room, the second hand clicking its gears in a maddening beat. The four men stared at one another, tension substantial between them as they tried desperately to think of what to do with the situation. Dean's eyes flitted over to his grandfather, eyeing him warily. After the mishap at the Campbell house, Dean was less than trustworthy of the man before him. It disheartened him to know that Sam had turned so quickly to their grandfather, calling him right away to assist in an exorcism he would most likely not be interested in partaking…

Not that he'd allow the man very close anyway. This was his issue to work out.

Even from the interior of Bobby's house, they could hear the frantic beating of wings against the shed walls, the feeble wood rattling in its stead. The Hebrew cries of their victimized angel chilled their very bones, that same damn chant on loop. It nearly drove Dean insane with fear for his angel.

Pacing the small room once again, Dean tried to block the sounds of his beloved screaming bloody murder outside the house, trapped within his tiny prison. He wanted to be sick. He wanted to hit something. God, he hated feeling this helpless; this USELESS in the hour of Castiel's need. Guilt ravaged his conscience, pitting him against the dark that threatened to overpower them all.

Their options were becoming far narrower; if they couldn't dispel this demon there was no telling what they would be resorted to doing.

A throat cleared across the room, causing Dean to look up. His grandfather, Samuel Campbell, eyed him curiously, a particularly loud shriek causing the lot of them to startle. As they listened, the voice grew more violent, more beast-like in its terrifying timbre.

Samuel returned his gaze to his eldest grandson, a look of pity on his face. "Dean… The situation looks dire. I'm not sure what exactly it is we can do for him." A flash of some suspicious emotion flitted across Samuel's face, setting the eldest Winchester brother on edge.

Dean shook his head, not willing to give up just yet. He shot his grandfather a distrustful look, inching away from him until the backs of his legs connected with the couch. "No… we have to save Cas. It's my fault he went off on his own. It was me who didn't listen to him. I have to save him… I can't lose him. Not like I've lost all those that I care about…" as he spoke, his words trailed off into near silent whispers, choked up and still. A hurried hand wiped the wayward moisture from his cheeks. Dean willed himself to stay strong despite the weight of the situation a threat to crush his very soul. He wouldn't show his weakness. Not… not in front of a _Campbell_…

Sensing his internal battle, Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, I don't wanna see Cas fall either… we'll figure this out." As he spoke, he looked up to the two eldest hunters, a hope on his young face.

But despite his optimism, he received none in return. Bobby coughed quietly, scuffing his feet on the floor in an attempt to avert his gaze from the brothers.

Samuel was not so gentle.

"Sam, Dean." He spoke up, his voice less than comforting to the grieving man. "There is no guarantee that he will come out of this unscathed, or at all. If he is an angel, as you say he is, then the battle within his vessel to gain control between the two spirits will be devastating. I'm not sure if our own modified exorcisms will even do a lick of damage to this devil…"

Dean dropped to the couch cushions, burying his face in his hands. "He's strong. He got a reboot, he'll fight this fucker. He's got to…"

The room fell silent again, their options sorely limited now. What was to become of his angel? None of them had a clue. After several long minutes, Dean stood from his position on the couch, and wandered upstairs. He hoped the others would take his hint.

Fortunately for him, they did. Watching Dean leave the room Sam turned to the elder hunters, face pale and mournful. "Well… let's start looking up stronger exorcisms…"

* * *

Dean collapsed onto the spare bed, burying his face in the pillow below him. He took a shaky breath, willing his heart to calm. What was he to do? His world was once again falling apart, and this time, he didn't think he had the strength to get off his knees. After a moment, he paused, listening. He could no longer hear the screams of his beloved, but he wasn't sure if he should be comforted by this, or worried.

Too exhausted to get up, Dean simply closed his eyes letting the cool cloth of the pillow beneath him soothe his troubled being. Despite his worry, he felt himself beginning to drift off, tendrils of sleep tugging at his subconscious until the last visages of his waking were plucked away into blessed oblivion.

However, instead of the usual nightmares that plagued him every night, his dreams took on a different form. The brimstone visions that haunted his nightly slumber gave way to the soft hues of a gentle Kansas sunset, light beams dancing across a field in warm yellowed bliss, warming him as he turned a sun kissed face towards the waning light.

As he watched the sun set, yellows turning a soft auburn, he felt a pair of arms, warm and soft, wrapping around his frame. He smiled as a pair of lips pressed to his temple, broad chest pressed into his back. "Hey, Cas…"

"Hello, Dean…" The angel murmured, smiling into the dirty blonde locks. He drummed his fingertips against Dean's pectorals, eyes lifting to watch the sunset as well. "You don't remember this, do you…?"

"Hm?" Dean sighed, eyes drifting shut against the gentle treatment bestowed upon him. He turned, capturing his lover's mouth with a soft kiss. Tongues teasing lips, teeth nipping the tender flesh the two lost a moment, caught up in their ministrations.

After a moment, Dean came back to his senses, remembering that his love had asked him a question. He cleared his throat, leaning back to gaze into the bright blue eyes, made sharp in the waning light. "No, sorry Cas. I don't remember this…"

The angel smiled, unfurling his wings to embrace the human close to him. The feathers were warm, delightfully so in the sunlight, and Dean snuggled further into their touch. "This was a dream. A long time ago. Don't you remember? Just before you asked me of my intentions for you, you dreamt this very same vision." At this, Castiel leaned closer, pressing his forehead to Dean's. "This was where I said yes to you… you took me for the first time before we even kissed in person. I'd never forget such a dream…"

Dean felt tears prick at his eyes, the memory of what was happening at that very moment outside the bedroom walls jumping to the forefront of his mind. With a shaking hand, he caressed the side of the angel's face, taking in his untainted, beautiful features for a long moment. "Castiel… I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't believe you… this is… this never would have happened to you if I had just listened to you…"

Cas smiled, returning the tender gesture with a little more fervor. "I trust you completely Dean…" Closing his eyes, the angel spoke softly, the Enochian lyrics floating over the two of them. A gentle breeze picked up, tossing the grass about them in a gentle wave of soft touches against their skin.

Dean shivered, gripping either side of Castiel's neck. He turned them until he lay over the prone figure, on leg thrown over Castiel's in a semi-possessive gesture. "I won't leave you, Cas… I'm gonna figure this out. I'm gonna get you out of there, and… and everything's gonna be alright…"

Cas smiled, brushing a wayward tress of hair from Dean's forehead. "I know, Dean. I'm here… always." As he spoke, he pressed a palm to Dean's chest, feeling the accelerated heartbeat underneath the too-warm skin.

Dean swallowed, reaching over his shoulder immediately. He tugged the shirt from his body, tossing it to land in the whispering grass beside them. He then made quick work of the buttons on Castiel's shirtsleeves, exposing his pale chest inch by inch.

The angel purred under him, allowing his hunter to divest him of the offending shirt. He sighed, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck, pulling him in close.

The moment their lips met, it was like fire. Electric attraction buzzed through their veins, lighting up the dusky night brighter than any sun could do. Warmth seeped through them tickling each appendage with fervor until the two felt that if they separated they would surely die.

Desperate for the air he so craved, Dean released his kiss, pressing his mouth into the crook of Castiel's neck, breathing in his musky scent. With a small laugh, he felt those kiss-bruised lips caress his ear, hot breath ghosting over the shell as Castiel murmured softly to his hunter.

_Have I told you how good it feels to be me,__  
__when I'm in you?__  
__I can only stay clean__  
__when you are around.__  
__Don't let me fall.__  
__If I close my eyes forever,__  
__would it ease the pain?_

Dean smiled, laughing gently to the lyrics Castiel sang to him on the warm summer night. "You don't worry about it, Cas. I'm not gonna let you fall, baby…"

Castiel pulled away, his eyes shining in the low light. "I have faith, Dean… I do."

Dean nodded, pressing forward as his hand drifted down the bare side of the angel. His thumb caught in the belt, tugging at it until it came loose in his hand. With a softness only warranted for moments like this, Dean unthreaded the belt, trailing kisses down the hard planes of Castiel's stomach.

"Dean…" The breathy response came, quiet but insistent. Dean smiled, laving at his partner's navel before thumbing the button of Castiel's trousers open.

"Dean." The hunter paused. The call was more insistent this time. But as he looked up to the angel's face, only succulent bliss marred his features, nothing like the demand for attention the voice asked for.

"Cas…?" He frowned, feeling the pull of an uncomfortable, cold sensation begin to grip him. In quick awareness, he scrambled to hold on to this warmth, never wanting to let it go as the vision was slowly taken from him. But the harder he fought, the faster it fell. "Cas! Castiel, I won't let you fall… I won't!"

* * *

"Dean. Dean! **DEAN!**"

Dean bolted upright, panting heavily. His wild eyes scanned the room, finally landing on the hulking form of his brother in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. "C'mon we found the exorcism to use for Cas." Sam replied to his silent question, turning to leave the room.

Dean shook the last dregs of sleep away, standing quickly. His arm had fallen asleep where he'd lain on top of it and he flexed his fingers to redistribute the blood. "What exorcism is it?"

"We're going old school." Sam replied, glancing over his shoulder at his brother. "We're going with an old latin Exorcism they use in churches for the actual grandiose exorcisms."

Dean frowned. "Those circus acts? Those never work!"

"Well it doesn't look like you have any better ideas!" Sam snapped, whirling on Dean. The two stood locked in the hall, eyes boring dangerously into the other. After a few moments, Sam ultimately backed down, averting his eyes from the authority pouring from Dean. "Look… we're gonna do this because it's our last resort. If it doesn't work…" he didn't finish. They all knew what the implications would be if Castiel didn't pull through, and neither brother was willing to pull the trigger.

"No… he's gonna pull around." Dean murmured stubbornly, looking down as he scuffed the toe of his boot on the floor. Another moment of silence filled the air between them, until Sam's nervous cough cracked the air.

"Samuel was talking about… taking Cas back to the Campbell house. To keep an eye on him. When and if the exorcism works, he wants to take the angel back where he will be safe…"

"He'll be safe here! He's not taking Cas, Sam!" Dean snapped, glares boring deeply into Sam. "You know fucking well what he's gonna do if he gets his hands on Cas. Or did you already forget abo-"

"KNOCK IT OFF, DEAN!" Sam roared, fists hovering before him. "He's looking out for your fucking boyfriend, got it? Nothing more!" His words were sure, yet even as he spoke a twitch formed at the corner of Sam's eye and he was forced to look away for the time being.

Dean watched his brother, a sense of disbelief filling him. "Whatever, Sam… what the fuck ever…" And without another word, strode past him in the hall. He was sure as hell not going to submit Castiel to his grandfather's intentions. He wasn't submitting him to any of that…

Striding down the stairs, he met the two elder hunters in the kitchen. Nodding to Bobby, the only one he could truly trust at this point, before snagging a beer from the fridge. He ignored his grandfather's piercing gaze, eyes locked on the kitchen table.

Before him the sparse materials for the exorcism laid out across the table as if showcasing their intentions. A bottle of holy water; a rosary; three bibles; one crucifix, and two white candles. Nothing more.

Dean eyed the materials warily, raising his eyebrows to the two men. "So…" he started voice rough and cracked with suppressed emotion. "What's the deal here? What do we do, Samuel?" he added the last word with barely hidden contempt, the bottle hovering before his lips.

Samuel strode forward, taking a bible from the table top. He placed it in Dean's hand, eyes locked with the younger man's. "As you slept, we delegated the roles for who shall perform what task. I will conduct the ritual exorcism. You and Sam will assist me in the readings. Sam with take possession of the holy water using it when conducted. Robert will monitor Castiel's condition. If his physical being begins to fail, we must abort the exorcism until his strength returns to him."

Dean nodded curtly, taking the bible and thumbing to the appropriate pages. "I'm assuming this will be entirely in Latin…"

"That is correct."

Dean nodded, meeting Bobby's gaze. The man looked torn, worried half to death. Castiel had fallen silent again, but these quiet reprieves were growing fewer and far between. The elder brother swallowed, fear clawing up the back of his throat. He didn't want to see what Castiel could have done to himself in the time he'd been locked up, but… he had to know. He had to see him.

If he wanted what he'd lost in the dream again, he had to fight for it. And that's what he did. He fought for his beliefs. And right now, he believed in Castiel; believed their love was not simply nuclear. He swore to himself that if this ended this night, the moment Castiel was safe in his arms he would never let him go again. He couldn't risk the loss… not again.

Samuel's eyes scanned the kitchen, taking in the sight of the three men around him. "Come… gather your items. We must go." He took his bible and the rosary into sure hands, leading the small troupe out to the shed.

As they walked, Bobby placed a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "We're doin' everything we can for him, son."

Dean nodded at the reassuring words, offering his own weak smile. But all too soon, they arrived at their destination. The sight was dreadful, even from the outside. The small windows were shattered from the inside, cracks spider webbing across the façade of the shed. The foursome stood stock still for a moment, gathering their wits.

It was Bobby who broke the silence. He strode forward, unlocking the shed door with deft hands. The door swung open, revealing the sight Dean had been dreading to approach within.

Castiel remained kneeling on the ground as he had been when they imprisoned him. Blood pooled under him; his wrists bloody and torn from the incessant pulling of his shackles. His skin was deathly pale, almost blue-white in the night, marred with horrid wounds, rivets of torn flesh. Drops ran down the smooth, unblemished skin to add to the pool beneath him. Castiel's head hung forward, chin brushing against his chest. Despite all of this, however, it was not that which caught the horrified attention of his visitors.

From Castiel's back sprouted great black wings. But unlike the raven wings Dean had witnessed and touch, loved and wrapped himself in on countless occasions, in their place were cruel, misshapen appendages. Leathery flesh trembled in the night, feathers strewn across the bloody ground. At the base of each cragged, bat-like wing tufts of black feathers held on diligently. Claws at the tips of each bone vein glinted harshly in the night, the sight of their beloved angel so twisted and horrified left them feeling ill.

"Dear, God…" Bobby breathed, eyes wide in shock.

Dean stared at his lover, his heart broken a thousand times over at the sight of his love so broken and ill-formed. Fresh tears sprang to his eyes and he took a tentative step forward, hand outstretched. "Castiel…?"

The malformed angel didn't even so much as flinch at the mention of his name. He remained rooted to the spot, inaudible murmurs escaping his purple lips. Every so often a spasm would wrack his body, muscles contracting in pain from his forced imprisonment, the only sign that any remote tendencies remained.

Undeterred, Samuel stepped forward, extending the bible in front of him. "Oh Lord Jesus, help us to save your poor brethren from the clutches of the enemy. Aid us in this night as we prepare to expel the demon from within."

Sam took his cue, splashing a few drops of holy water in Castiel's direction. The drops sizzled upon contact, but the dose played its part.

Dean watched, horrified, as Castiel went rigid frantic breathing filling the night air. He watched as Castiel rose up and forward as far as his bonds would allow him. It was horrid! It appeared as if they held a wild beast in their clutches, every fiber of the creature's being screaming to fight and flee, bite and claw his way to freedom. But his still form persisted.

Whether it was the traps or Castiel's remaining Grace fighting through, Dean couldn't tell.

Samuel nodded, face grim as he opened the pages of his bible before directing the other two to do so. He bade Bobby to step forward and begin his analysis of the vessel's body, watching for signs of stress or failure.

Suddenly, the roiling call of an impending storm struck a chord across the sky, echoing in the night. Flashes in the distance caught their eyes, and as another clap of thunder reached their eyes, Castiel's head snapped upright. His demeanor made no change; it was his eyes that caught their attention this night. His eyes were wide and bright, blue irises almost completely consumed by the swelling of his pupils in the night.

Samuel nodded, taking a steadying breath. He placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, offering his own comfort that he knew would be rejected on normal occasions. Now wasn't the time for family squabbles. They had a soul to save.

"It has begun…"


	4. One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six

**Chapter 4**

Dean's voice clashed against the unnatural calm of his grandfather's as he read from the selected passages. His hands trembled like frightened leaves in a wind, holding the tiny bible close in the dim lighting. They dared not turn the lamp on, resorting only to the use of the sacred candles for illumination.

The hunter glanced up, eyes seeking out his lover's form in the cramped prison. At the sight of his trembling form, spasms wracking his body against the too-tight chains around his wrists, he flinched inwardly. He longed for this to be over; when he could gather his angel into his arms and soothe his hurt away. He just needed to hold out a moment longer…

Through the broken silence, Samuel's words rang true; powerful and commanding in his authority. He gazed fiercely upon the possessed being, his eyes like fire in the night. _"__EXORCIZO te, immundíssime spíritus, omnis incúrsio adversárii, omne phantasma, omnis légio, in nómine Dómini nostri Jesu Christi eradicáre, et effugáre ab hoc plásmate Dei…"_

As these words floated over the wrecked being, Castiel visibly seized up, convulsing in the binds. His breathing grew more labored, eyes rolling into the back of his head with each phrase uttered over him.

Dean watched, near helpless with worry. However, his mind remained on the task before him, murmuring the response as it came with the exorcism's progression._ "Dómine, exaudi oratiónem meam."_

Samuel turned the page in his bible, looking to the others about him. "Let us pray…" he murmured, bidding Bobby to join them. The more assistance in the ritual, the better.

"_Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra…."_

The very air hummed with the intensity of their prayer, words growing stronger in the night. The distant rumble of thunder turned brutal, seeming to echo directly over head. Dean's eyes locked on the writhing form, his heart clawing its way from his chest. He gritted his teeth, resuming his prayer alongside the others. "_Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris…"_

A crash of thunder jolted the lot of them, the shed lighting up as the noonday sun. Without warning, Castiel's head whipped up, eyes blotted out in inky void. A snarl broke out across his pale features, marring his once delicate appearance in hideous fervor. His voice rose above the din, screeching in dual tones, "_**Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo!"**_

Dean staggered backwards, taken off guard by the sudden revolt in his lover. His eyes, wide and bright with unshed tears, locked on the twisted angel. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen…! He glanced at his brother, noting the equally terrified expression thrown his way. They both knew what the other thought.

In all their years of hunting, never had they seen a possession this violent.

Samuel remained undeterred, bearing down on the possessed angel with a vengeance. "Who are you demon? TELL ME YOUR NAME!" he demanded, his voice overpowering the constant roll of thunder assaulting their prison.

Castiel lunged to his feet, darting forward as far as his binds would allow him. He jolted to a halt, his arms stretched behind him as he fought against the sigil-carved shackles around his wrists. Wings beat frantically in the night, the snarl on his face turning malicious. "One, two, three, four, five, six! C'mon _vater_, play the counting game with me! Trick or treat, I give you treats AND tricks! ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX!"

He cackled manically, writhing in the chains enough to dislocate his shoulders. Almost robotically, his head snapped to the side, coal-black eyes locking with Dean's. That Cheshire smile widened further as he struggled to reach the horrified man. "You! You think you can break this? YOU THINK YOU CAN SAVE YOUR ANGEL! WITH DREAMS AND KISSES; LIES AND WISHES?"

Dean's heart stopped in his chest, tears running down his cheeks in terror and shame. "LET HIM GO! FOR GOD'S SAKE, LET CASTIEL GO!" he cried, throwing the bible to the dirt ground below in frustration.

The demon in his lover's form cackled with delight, running back full circle within the devil's trap. "You beg and plead and bring your tears for show! It warms my bleeding heart to see you so!" The demon rhymed in a sing-song tone, rolling across the ground almost playfully. Castiel's face contorted in vicious glee once again as he crouched within the middle of the trap.

Samuel strode forward, extending the blessed cross before him. "Tell me your name, Demon! I command it in the name of the Almighty God!"

"_**WIR SIND DAS DERJENIG, DIE DRINNEN WOHNEN**__!__" _ Castiel shriek, thrusting his wing out to throw Samuel back. In its trajectory, the wing clipped Bobby instead, throwing the elder hunter back against the far wall with a sickening crack to the already wounded boards.

"BOBBY!" Sam and Dean leapt forward, helping the dazed man back to his feet. Aside from a bruise on his cheek, he appeared shaken but unscathed.

Just as suddenly, the possessed angel locked up yet again, his eyes widening in shock. With a rolling body wave, Castiel threw his head back, uttering a scream interlaced with hints of his former grace. The pitchy squeal of his true voice mingled with the bone-chilling call, rendering the four hunters before him to their knees.

Dean clasped his hands over his ears, crying out in pain. He felt warmth seep onto his palms, but paid no heed. As he opened his eyes he saw the faintest of blue taint the onyx orbs of the demon, his whole body convulsing with a passion.

Castiel screamed again, ripping at the shackles on his person. But this time, the metal gave way; what bits of grace he possessed overpowered the hold of the devil's traps and the shackles cracked under his immense strength.

Seeing his intended escape, Samuel struggled to his feet, dazed by the powerful call of the angel's voice. "Demon! STAND DOWN!" he ordered, rushing to meet Castiel before he made his flight.

With a flick of his demonic wings, Castiel sent the hunter careening through the air, knocking the door that held him prisoner askew from the hinges. He broke free of the chalk devil's trap, shooting from within the feeble confines of the shed into the stormy night.

"CASTIEL!" Dean cried, struggling to his feet. He ran past his fallen grandfather, darting out into the torrential downpour about him as he searched the darkened skies for his lover. Through the curtain of rain, Dean saw no sign of him, but the unmistakable beating of wings caught his attention.

His flight sounded labored. Almost as if he struggled to keep himself airborne in the skies.

Dean called for the angel again, icy rain soaking into his clothes. The droplets stung his eyes but he persevered. It was only when the others joined him out in the rainy salvage yard did he tear his eyes from the sky. "I don't see him…"

He never finished his sentence, for at that moment another shriek filled the air. Castiel plummeted from the sky, slamming headlong into the sopping wet ground, puddles splashing up and about him in his impact. He writhed on the ground, seeming to fight with his own body for control. With each convulsion, sparks of white hot light shot from his being, his remaining grace flaring in its attempts to expel the demons from within his vessel.

"CAS!" Dean lunged forward. He grabbed his elbows when the angels slammed his own face into a water-logged pothole in the ground, as if attempting to drown himself. He struggled to pull him upright, wrapping his arms around him from behind. Under his sodden grip, he felt the wild beating of his heart, hammering impossibly fast under his grip. Bare skin felt white-hot, burning Dean's hands under the simple touch. "GUYS HURRY THE FUCK UP, HE'S BURNING UP!"

Castiel hissed violently, his wings beating the eldest Winchester about the head. He floundered in his grip, trying to dislodge him. Surprisingly, he was unable to break the iron hold Dean had around his small being. He hissed again, snapping at Dean's jugular with bared teeth.

Dean whipped back, barely missing the clawed bones of his wings. "SAM!" he yelled, looking towards his frozen being. "GET THE FUCK OVER HERE AND HELP ME!"

This seemed to snap Sam out of his daze. He rushed forward, taking Castiel's right arm in his grip, helping his brother steady the being between them. "SAMUEL! GO, KEEP READING!"

At this bidding, Samuel turned to the demon, his face marred with a trail of washed-out blood. _"_For there is no other God than you, nor can there be another true God beside you, the Creator of heaven and earth, who are truly a King, whose kingdom is without end; I humbly entreat your glorious majesty to deliver this servant of yours from the unclean spirits; through Christ our Lord."

Castiel wrenched from the brothers' grips, eyes flashing to Samuel with barely restrained malice. "YOU THINK YOU CAN STOP THIS, OLD MAN? YOU THINK YOUR PRAYERS AND LIES FROM AN UNCARING GOD WILL SAVE THE LIFE OF A CHILD HE DOES NOT LOVE?"

Dean's heart wrenched at these words, hearing the hurt underlying their meaning. Perhaps in this one moment, it was not just the demon within that controlled these words…

No! Castiel would never give in to this serpent! He shook his possessed lover with all the strength he could muster, crying out into the night. "CAS DON'T YOU DARE GIVE UP NOW!" he demanded with all the authority he could gather, eyes hard on his form.

Despite his fervor, they did nothing to sway him. Castiel whipped about, eyes flashing from black to clear bright blue in quick succession. As the moments passed, however, the blue of his lover's eyes faded with each flicker until nothing remained of those crystal cobalt he'd come to love. Dean felt his heart break within his chest. "No…" he moaned with the realization, sinking back in on himself.

Castiel had given up.

Sam, unaware of this new progression, reached out to take his friend's pulse. Eyes widening in shock, he looked up to his grandfather, shaking his head. "His pulse is racing! Samuel, hurry up he's not going to last much longer!"

Barely the words left his mouth before the demon struck again. His hand shot out, wrapping around Sam's neck in iron-grip, choking off his air supply. He lunged forward, knocking Sam back to the muddy earth below as they grappled in the storm.

"CASTIEL! CAS!" Dean screamed, wrenching the smaller man off of his brother with surprising strength. Throwing him aside, he helped his gasping brother to his feet to limp away from the crazed victim before them.

Left alone at last, Samuel turned on the angel, extending the cross before him. "Ancient serpent! SPEAK YOUR NAME! I COMMAND YOU, TELL ME WHO YOU ARE!"

Castiel hissed, low and rattling in his chest. His hand shot out to claw at the elder hunter, the other one pawing at his own face and chest. He knelt in the muddy earth, wings beating the ground and throwing sludge everywhere. "One, two, three, four, five six!" Castiel shouted this, his voice dropping in pitch to a low, guttural growl.

The very howls of hell crossed his voice, raising the hairs on the back of Samuel's neck with their intensity. Yet he pressed on. He wouldn't stop until this demon was expelled, and the angel was in their clutches again. He had expectations for this young cherub…

With a snarl, Samuel lunged forward, pressing the flat of the cross to Castiel's chest. He watched with satisfaction as the metal seared into his skin, burning and steaming the water on his flesh with the contact. Castiel howled in pain, ripping the crucifix from his chest and throwing the twisted metal to the ground before dropping to his back. His arms and legs kicked out as if fighting off a hundred dogs, ready to rip his being to shreds.

"SPEAK, DEMON! IN THE NAME OF YOUR BRETHREN, AND THE RULER OF ALL CREATION, OUR HEAVENLY FATHER! SPEAK YOUR NAME!"

With this command, Castiel leapt to his feet. He lashed out, clawing at the old man's form, teeth gnashing in the night. He hissed and snarled, circling him as if he were his prey. Wings trembled with anticipation. Onyx eyes shining in the raining night. "ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX!" He repeated, wings lashing out again and again. The snarl turned to a sneer, cackles rising up in the dead of the night to mingle with the ever constant rumbles of thunder.

Samuel's eyes locked on the demon before him, a spike of fear threading through his heart. He felt trapped; at the mercy of a crazed demon in an angel's body. He kept his steely resolve, a spike of realization striking him.

With renewed determination, Samuel extended a hand to him, rendering Castiel to his knees. He smiled darkly, watching as the demon squirmed under God's scrutiny. "I will only ask once more. DEMON! FROM THE PITS OF HELL. GIVE. ME. YOUR. NAME!"

"**NAMES!" **That one simple work rang out in the night. Like nails to a chalkboard, it grated on their already bleeding ears. His head snapped up, hard enough to break his neck, and he laughed hysterically with his revealed secret. "**NAMES! ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX! NAMES, OH FATHER OF THE MOST HIGH!"**

The group fell silent, watching Castiel writhe under the immense weight of the evil within him. There wasn't just one demon. Six demons ravaged his body, fighting and consuming what little grace he had left in him.

"Jesus fucking Christ…" Dean gasped, staggering to his feet. He watched his grandfather round on his possessed lover, his own hand hovering over the vial of holy water he'd managed to save from the mud.

Samuel huffed in mild satisfaction, fists shaking at his sides. He took a confident step forward, voice raised in mock triumph over the demons within him. "Serpents… heathens from the bowels of hell. RELEASE THIS SERVANT, THIS CHILD OF GOD! RELEASE HIM AND TELL ME YOUR SIX NAMES!"

Castiel stilled his eyes wide in exertion. He looked up slowly at the man before him, face twisted in a ruined parody of hate and glee. "_We are the ones who dwell within!" _He crawled to his feet, wings stretched out to catch the water around him. His eyes locked with Dean's, turning away from Samuel as he spoke the long sought names.

"_**Ani hu sheshokhen betokh Cain! **_

_**Ego sum quis habitavit in Nerone! **_

_**Mia fora katoikese mesa se Ioudas! **_

_**Ich bin zu viele als der Prinz von allen bekannt, der übel ist. Ich bin Samael! **_

_**Ana Belial!"**_

Screaming the last line, he thrust a clawed hand towards Samuel, throwing him across the soaked salvage yard. A sickening crunch filled the air as he connected with the side of a used vehicle, rendering the old man unconscious. Castiel lowered his hand, eyes locked with Dean's.

As he did so, the hunter felt a cold dread flood his stomach, eyes streaming to mix with the muddy rain on his face. No, no, this couldn't be…

Tri-tones flooding his voice, Castiel cackled viciously, his voice drowning out the god-like rumbles of thunder overhead.

"_You have banished our master to the cage once again. But be warned, we are __not without laws__. From deep within its bowels, Lucifer rules on, and we follow. Winchesters, you may have destroyed our ways once before, but not again will you succeed. There is no hope to stop us, for we are many. We are everything and we are one. __**WE ARE LEGION!"**_

Dean froze, hearing the dreaded name fill the air. Legion… the thousands of minions of hell, residing in one angel's chosen vessel, torturing, tearing him apart from the inside out… ready to take on those that had locked their beloved ruler in his prison once again. Anger flooded him. How dare they touch what belonged to him!

No, never again would hell fuck Dean Winchester over! He had a soul to save and a lover to reclaim. AND NOTHING ON THIS EARTH OR BELOW IT WAS GOING TO STOP HIM!

Dean leapt forward, clasping the angel's shoulders in his grip. He pressed a hand to Castiel's forehead, ignoring the warning cries of his companions behind him.

"_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, in nomine et virtute Domini Nostri Jesu Christi…" _His words rang true in the night, Dean crying out the exorcism that he prayed would save Castiel's life this night.

If it didn't, he would never be able to forgive himself.

As these words were uttered over his form, Castiel writhed in Dean's grip, his eyes widening in pain and fear. A scream rose up in his throat, piercing in the cold night.

"… _eradicare et effugare a Dei Ecclesia, ab animabus ad imaginem Dei conditis ac pretioso divini Agni sanguine redemptis!_"

The final words of the exorcism uttered over his form, Castiel pitched backwards, head thrown back in agony. His eyes lit up the night around them, the column of smoke spewing from his screaming maw. He thrashed in Dean's grip, the tearing of thousands of demons vacating his used vessel ripping him apart until nothing remained. As the last tendrils of demon essence left his mouth, he collapsed forward into Dean's arms, comatose in the frozen night.

Dean watched with bated breath, the twisted wings fold in on themselves, dissipating from existence in this plane. He felt the too-cold body of his lover in his arms, and his heart clenched. Had he been too late?

"C-Cas…" Dean whispered, his hand trembling as he reached up to brush the wayward locks from Castiel's damp forehead. His eyes stung with repressed tears. No, not Castiel… "Castiel, you son of a bitch. Don't you die on me…"

Having not the will to hold onto his resolve any longer, Dean shed his tears, letting the salty drops stain his lover's torn cheeks. He brushed away what mud and blood he could, wincing at the deep rivets his own nails had carved into his face. "Please, wake up… please…"

The silence dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Off in the distance, Samuel awoke, pained to see that his own exorcism had not succeeded that night. "Damn…" he cursed, struggling to his feet. As he did so, the three remaining members of their group strode forward, eyes locked on the scene before them.

Bobby's heart ran cold in his chest. Castiel could not succumb… not like this. He was too strong! His eyes met Sam's, the two communicating silently. They both knew what this meant.

If Castiel didn't survive, there was no hope for Dean.

After several long, agonizing moments, a cough rose up in the air, startling the lot of them. Dean's head snapped up, eyes meeting the confused, pained but otherwise completely lucid gaze of the angel's "C-Cas… is…"

"Dean… what happened…" Castiel croaked, sitting up slowly. He leaned back against Dean's chest, a hand gripping the side of his head. "What happened to me… and why am I… filthy?"

It was as if a great weight were lifted from his shoulders. Dean exalted the heavens, pulling his lover into a firm, warm embrace. "Thank fuck you're alright!" he nearly sobbed, burying his face in the crook of Castiel's sweaty neck.

The angel, now seemingly more confused than ever, held him in return, feeling pain lancing through his shoulders. "Dean… what in Father's name is going on?"

"Here, son." Bobby intervened, stepping forward. "Come inside, every one of ya. We'll all dry off, then we'll explain this whole mess to you…"

At this suggestion, Dean stood, taking Castiel's hand in his. "C'mon, Cas." He pulled the angel close, making sure to stand firm by his word before. He was never letting go of him now.

* * *

"So… I was possessed… by six demons…" Castiel sounded skeptical. In his hands he held a bloody, muddy towel and he dabbed at his form repeatedly. Smiling, he leaned back into Dean's embrace, tucking his head underneath his jaw.

Finally safe from the elements, the five men sat together in the living room, bottles of whiskey laid out before them. It seemed that even the weather understood a great deed had been done that night. The storm abated within minutes of their safe return to the confines of Bobby's home, the sky beginning to clear up in the night. The warmth of Dean's embrace seeped into Castiel's chilled form, and he turned into the touch with a smile.

"That's right, son. Looks like Dean's exorcism was just the thing to bring you back." Bobby smiled to the angel, feeling a lightheartedness towards the celestial being he'd not previously felt before. It seemed that a near-loss was the thing to show him how much he appreciated this one-in-a –million cherub.

Castiel smiled, turning to place a kiss on Dean's lips. "I know… I will always answer his pleas, no matter what the situation." He turned a glance towards the elder hunter, but paused as his eyes landed on the stony gaze of Samuel Campbell. He held his gaze for a few moments, heat seeking out the other through their line of vision.

Absentmindedly, Castiel traced the cross burn on his chest, eyes narrowed towards the Winchesters' grandfather. "And I thank you all for everything you've done…" he added, his voice holding no conviction.

Dean pulled him close, his own eyes landing on Samuel. Whatever his grandfather had planned for the angel could kiss ass at this point, he thought to himself, ignoring the pleading looks. "Yeah… thank you everyone…"

Once again, the room fell into silence. A few steadfast raindrops pelted the window, but none paid any attention to this weak report. To all, the night couldn't end soon enough.

After several long moments, Castiel stood, stretching his back. "I must excuse myself. This mud just will not go away with the cloth alone."

Dean tensed, hand shooting out to take Castiel's wrist. "Where are you…" he broke off, looking away ashamedly. How could he not trust his own lover? He swallowed his pride and his fears, glancing up to meet the angel's gaze.

Castiel smiled reassuringly to him. "You have nothing to fear. I'm only going to the restroom. I want to wash the remainder of this blood and dirt off of me. I will return to you. I promise my beloved one." And with that, Castiel leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lover's quivering lips, stilling them with a gentle nip.

Dean watched Castiel go, eyes drifting to Samuel's after a moment. The look he received was less than accepting. "What?" he snapped, downing another tumbler of whiskey with defiance.

Samuel glared, standing quickly. "You're a fool, Dean…" he hissed, storming from the room.

Dean watched him go, licking his lips nervously out of habit. His eyes met Sam's, raising an eyebrow. He didn't understand what he meant by that, but the tone itself gave him chills to pause. However, he hid his concern well, storing it in the back of his mind.

Maybe he had something… what he wasn't sure.

But if the lingering taste of sulfur on his lover's lips told of the presence of demons about them all, still, then he'd be ready to defend his lover. After all, the demons were powerful and many.

Of course this sign was only lingering. The angel was back for good…

Right?

* * *

The faucet handle creaked in the quiet, water draining down the sink in a trickle. The last of the pinkish mud drained away, swirling down the pipes to the tainted ground below.

Castiel stood, gazing into the mirror before him. He ran a fingertip over the rivets in his face, wincing at the painful little cuts. As he examined the cuts, a small smile broke out across his features. Dean had done this. His lover. His partner.

Dean had saved him. Dean had exorcized the beasts from his soul. Dean had saved an angel from the clutches of hell itself…

What a fucking idiot.

Castiel's smile turned sinister, a fist curling at this side. He snapped, punching the glass before him with a sharp crack. The glass broke, spider web cracks spreading across the cool, smooth surface. Castiel eyed the individual sections of the glass, brown knitting together with malice.

Few portions of the broken glass reflected the world has it was. The others…

The others reflected darkly, fires burning the earth to death. The house was in tatters; broken class, blood stains everywhere, and in those portions, the coal-black eyes reflected back, his true nature filling in the remains of a broken angel.

Castiel's face broke out in vicious glee, a low cackle flowing forth. He ran his palm over the broken glass, allowing the sharp edges to slice his tender palm open like butter.

As the blood dripped down the broken glass, Castiel's laugh turned violent, echoing in the seemingly never ending night. Those letters spelled the fate of one such young angel, hidden under the power of one last demon. Blood stained the broken glass, forming the undeniable shape of letters, spelling the fate of a lost angel in the fateful night:

_Beelzebub…_

Fin~

* * *

A/N the third: OK! SO THE STORY IS COMPLETE! however I have a feeling that people will be asking for a sequel to this, so i have one in the planning stages right now. That is if people really WANT a sequel. PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK ON WHAT YOU GUYS THOUGHT SO I CAN WRITE THE SEQUEL!

For the part where Castiel lists the six demon names in the story, here's the translations and what each language was:

1.(Ani hu sheshokhen betokh Cain. Hebrew) I am the one who dwelt within Cain!

sum quis habitavit in Nerone. Latin) I am one who dwelt within Nero!

3.(Mia fora katoikese mesa se Ioudas! Greek) I dwelt within Judas!

4. (Ich bin zu viele als der Prinz von allen bekannt, der übel ist. Ich bin Samael! German) I am known to many as the prince of all that is evil. I am Samael!

5.(Ana Belial. Aramaic) I am Belial.


End file.
